


Dew Needs His Brats

by GasolineGhuleh



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Biting, Brat, Choking, F/M, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:26:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasolineGhuleh/pseuds/GasolineGhuleh
Relationships: Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul/Reader
Kudos: 30





	Dew Needs His Brats

The letter shook in your hands slightly, blurring the words in front of you. The Sister Imperator had chosen you for the evening to accompany Dew after the concert, to “burn off his stress”. He’s a Fire Ghoul after all. You should have seen this coming. You’ve accompanied every Ghoul so far except Dew- certainly it was your turn. The other Siblings needed a break from him eventually. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do it- far from it. But you were, by all intents and purposes, a brat. Dew was infamous for his brat treatment.

The door opens and Dew flies through, a look of surprise registering on the part of his face that you can see behind the mask when he catches your eye. He kicks out a foot behind him and shuts the door, surreptitiously reaching back and clicking the lock into place. Sauntering forward with his usual cockiness he tilts a finger under your chin and tips it upward.

“Chosen for me tonight, Sister?” He smirks down at you, forked tongue flicking out quickly to wet his lips. “Was this a volunteer basis or were you told? No, no, don’t tell me. I’m sure it’ll be obvious when I taste you.” Dew leans down towards you, eager to latch his lips to your neck and bite. You pull back sharply.

“You think I would volunteer for this? Don’t get me wrong, Dewdrop, you have my consent. But I’m not here to make it easy for you.” Your breathing hitched slightly in your chest as you spoke- what were you doing? His eyes spark at your indignation, narrowing slightly. His tail twitches behind his back in a playful way and you can tell you’ve made the correct choice.

“Right then. Come on, Sister.” Dew marches over to the large couch that dominates the room and sits quickly, patting his lap and looking at you expectantly. “If you won’t do what I say, I’ll just have to punish you for it.” He leans back onto the couch and throws his arm over the back of it, carefree. “Or I could punish you while I fuck you. You know...choke you a little, spank you, make you beg for me. Which one, Sister? It’s the only choice you get tonight. Make it a good one.” He tosses a wink at you and a chill courses up your spine. 

“If you’ll excuse me.” You turn quickly from him and walk towards the bathroom, hand outreached for the door handle. Your hand is shaking slightly and you hope it’s only evident to you, but you know how strong Ghoul eyesight is- especially in the dim light of the room the two of you are occupying.

Dew beats you to it, opening the door swiftly for you and bowing you in. A soft smile plays at his lips but there’s something further behind it. The door clicks shut behind you and you brace yourself on the vanity, dutifully ignoring your own face in the mirror. A twist of the silver spigot turns the water on to the coldest setting and you splash your face with it, hoping that some of the blush will fade with the cold snap of the water. A moment passes before you hear clicking on the door- Dew’s claws.

“Little pig, little pig, let me in…” His voice is sing-songy and you smile to yourself. You know he loves a brat, and you love to be one. Time to give him what he wants.

“Or what?” you call back to him, your voice playfully teasing.

“Or I’ll come and take it myself.” His voice has dropped registers and a thrill goes through your gut at the prospect of what may happen once he gets his hands on you. So far, your plan has been working. Lock yourself in a bathroom and see if he gets riled up at not being able to see you: simple and effective. “Open the door, little one.” His claws drag down the wood again and the sound causes the hair on your arms to stand on end. You take a deep breath and finally say what you know will send him over the edge:

“Make me.” Silence from the other side of the door. Cold, calculating silence. Then-

“You want me to make you?” A pause. “Do you want me to make you open this door, or make you take me until I’m satisfied with you?” Another pause. “You don’t get to choose.” The door knob rattles slightly as he tries to turn it, and then there’s a scraping sound as he inserts his claw into the lock and twists. The /click/ of the lock opening precedes the slamming of the door as Dew steps his way in, his silhouette filling the frame of the door. 

“Hello, there.” Your voice is still chipper and inviting, giving no indication of the nervousness that’s suddenly taken over your body as you realize that this is it. This is what you’d been planning for days now. It was going to happen. Dew steps forward crowding you against the vanity with his arms, hips pressing you into place.

“Hello. You told me to make you.” You laugh slightly, turning your head away from his as he leans in to kiss you. Quick as a flash his hand comes to your chin, pinching your cheeks and holding your head still. “I’ve made you.” He ducks quickly, locking your lips with his in a rough kiss that’s entirely tongue and teeth. His other hand searches up your habit and he groans as he feels the absence of your underwear. You came prepared- he likes that. 

You pull back for a breath and he moves quickly to your neck, biting and licking your pulse point. He’s taking deep breaths as he does so, smelling you where your neck and shoulder meet. Dew groans about how good you smell as his other hand reaches between your thighs; he groans again when he feels the slickness already there. Your game of riling him up has worked for you as well, and the ache in your core is growing stronger as Dew ruts himself against you. Almost as quickly as he began he pulls back from you, grabbing your upper arms tightly so you cry out and spinning you against the vanity. On reflex your hands come forward to grip the counter, your hips pressed directly against it. 

“Spread yourself for me.” You look up into the mirror and make eye contact with Dew, standing above you and leering down lasciviously. His hands are on his zipper, peeling away the tight material and pulling his cock free. He groans as he does so and the sound goes directly to your cunt. Still, you make no move. “I said do it,” Dew hisses. He rucks up your habit roughly and grabs your wrists, slapping your own hands to your ass cheeks. Finally, you do as he says and spread yourself for him, adjusting your feet and leaning up onto your toes to give him more access as well.

“And I said make me.” You wink at him in the mirror again and he winks back, clearly enjoying the game as much as you are. He keeps eye contact with you as his hand goes to his cock again, guiding himself to your entrance. He runs his cock head over your clit a few times as you squirm, your breaths becoming gasps and pants as he continues teasing you. Without warning he slides his cock into you to the hilt, fully seating himself and groaning. One of his hands slides up your back to your hair, gripping it tight and pulling.

“I did.” He checks to make sure that your hands are still holding yourself open before he starts moving, clearly watching his cock disappear into you. The only noise in the bathroom are the lewd sounds of your slickness on his cock, and the skin-on-skin as his pelvis meets your ass. It’s almost surprising to yourself just how wet you are- you hadn’t realized how turned on playing the brat made you until now. A particularly strong thrust jolts a groan out of you and one of your hands slips from yourself. “Keep yourself open, dammit. I want to see you. Maybe next time you’ll listen when someone tells you what to do.” 

“Yes, sir!” Dew’s free hand slaps your ass harshly before he puts your hand back where it was, his grip tightening in your hair. He uses your hair as leverage, thrusting himself into you harsher and faster now. His own breaths are coming faster, tinged with moans and the odd curse word- you aren’t sure if it’s English anymore. Dew drops your ponytail and grips your hair closer to the scalp, pulling your head up to face the mirror. His other hand comes to your throat, squeezing just enough to block your airway slightly, giving you a heady sensation tinged with the dizziness of further arousal.

“Watch yourself as I cum in you. I want you to watch yourself get used like the fucking brat that you are. My little toy.” You manage to groan out an affirmative as your toes curl in your shoes, your orgasm hitting you by surprise, spurred on by the dirty talk. “That’s right, clench yourself on my cock. Cum on my cock little pig.” You make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, watching the expression on your face change from ecstasy to slight pain and pleasure as he thrusts deeper and harder, each stroke landing exactly where he wants it. With a final thrust home he cums and you feel his thick cock kicking inside of you, even as you grip his cock tightly still. He drops your hair and throat and you let your head fall down.

“Fuck,” you pant out. Your thighs are shaking from the effort of standing on your toes against the vanity, and you’re not sure you’re going to be able to sit comfortably for a while. From behind you, Dew chuckles out a soft laugh and pats your ass lightly, sliding himself out of you. 

“You did well, Sister. It’s not easy to play the brat.” You can hear him zipping himself up and then he’s behind you again, fixing your habit and coaxing you up into a fully standing position. He busies himself fixing your hair while he talks. “It’s been a while since I’ve had someone that good. I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you submitted a request to be mine, you know.” Even through the mask you can tell that he’s flushed. You throw a wink at him in the mirror. 

“Make me.”


End file.
